


Desperate to Feel

by PinkPandorafrog



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, F/M, smut tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 04:23:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3555881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkPandorafrog/pseuds/PinkPandorafrog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma just wants to feel, to lose herself in sensation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desperate to Feel

Jemma glanced up from her tablet when motion in the corner of her eye caught her attention. It was Hunter, and the smile he offered in greeting wasn't completely genuine. She smiled back, though, and returned her attention to her tablet. She was looking at what little information Skye had been able to find about that crate- not a lot at all, to be perfectly honest _._

He walked over and stopped just beside her, leaning back against the table. She could practically feel him looking down at her. “Looks like everyone's got something to do,” he said after a moment.

Jemma dropped the tablet on the table and shook her head, looking up to meet his brown eyes. “I don't know why I'm doing this instead of opening up that crate or running tests on the Truncheon.” It was tantamount to nothing, what she was doing. Skye could have done it. Hunter could have done it. Not that there was anything to find, anyway.

She let out a small sigh, giving him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I'm just a bit on edge.” Normally she was better at keeping her frustration and anxiety away from work, but there was so much lately, it was starting to chip away at her facade. There was no call to snap at him, though.

He folded his arms, gesturing with his chin at the tablet. “What's that you've got there?”

“All of our information on that crate- what's been entered into the database, anyway.” Her eyes widened in her exasperation as she shook her head. “Which is practically nothing.”

Hunter pushed away from the table, walking around behind her. She was slightly surprised to feel his hands on his shoulders, kneading away at the tension tightening up her muscles. “Why so tense, love?”

She let out another sigh, longer this time, straightening her back to get the maximum effectiveness out of his massage. “It just seems that I've had hardly any time to breathe since I was undercover at HYDRA.” Losing Trip, the things she'd seen and heard at HYDRA, the very real possibility of a new plague- no one was taking it as seriously as they should have been. Not even Director Coulson. And Fitz... And now this. She and Fitz should have had the Truncheon in the lab for a thorough scientific evaluation, but instead she was stuck scanning a couple of paragraphs of useless information for answers that weren't there. “Now I'm doing this instead of doing something actually useful. I'm sure Director Coulson has his reasons,” she rushed on to add. “But there's nothing here.”

She felt his breath stir the hair at the nape of her neck before his lips brushed along the skin just above the neck of her shirt. “Take a break, then.”

Jemma actually let out a contented sigh before realizing exactly what was going on. “I thought we agreed that we weren't going to do this again,” she whispered, suddenly hyper-aware that the Bus was full of people, any of whom could walk in at any moment. They'd had one late-night rendezvous at the Playground shortly after she'd come back from HYDRA, and they'd both sworn that it wasn't going to happen again. That seemed especially pertinent now that he and Bobbi were back together. “What about Bobbi?”

“Bob's not...” There was a pause, a weighted silence. “Old habits, love. It's a pattern we just can't seem to break.” She felt his lips again, the gentle touch raising goosebumps along her skin.

It was tempting. A rush of endorphins might push away everything else, at least temporarily. Normally, Jemma would just say no; now, though, she almost craved the easy silence it would bring. “We can't here,” she found herself whispering.

She felt his lips move into a smile against her skin. “Meet me in the closet back there in about five minutes.” Another fleeting kiss at the back of her neck, and then Hunter was gone.

Alone, Jemma began to question her decision. She and Bobbi had become quite close, and she _knew_ that Bobbi had feelings for her ex-husband.

Then there was her tenuous relationship with Fitz. She'd thought it was getting better, but she knew he was keeping things from her, that there were secrets he didn't trust her with. If he found out about this, their friendship might become damaged beyond repair.

Despite these thoughts, precisely four minutes and fifty second later by the timer on her tablet, Jemma slid off the stool and took a quick glance around before walking steadily to the closet Hunter had mentioned. Her pulse and heart rate were elevated, her torn emotions wreaking havoc on her central nervous system.

She paused outside the door, then reached out a slightly-shaking hand to open it. Hunter was already inside, and he looked over at her as she slipped inside. Jemma closed the door.

Immediately, she was in his arms, held tightly against him as his mouth sought out hers. They kissed almost frantically, an urgency born of the desperate need to escape, to forget. The man had an admirable physique, and Jemma couldn't stop herself from running her hands up under his shirt, over his torso and shoulders.

He was already undoing the front of her slacks, pushing them and her knickers down over her hips. His hand went immediately between her legs, quickly finding her clitoris and setting a rapid pace over it with his finger.

She was so desperate to lose herself in physical sensation that it took hardly any time before she was ready for him. She undid his own trousers and turned around, backing into him until her shoulders bumped his chest.

She felt Hunter shifting behind her, and then his erection was pressing slowly inside her. She felt incredibly tight around him but it wasn't nearly deep enough, and she let out a wordless cry of frustration.

One hand came up to rest heavily over her mouth, the other dropped between her thighs again, coaxing her pleasure out with one dextrous finger.

Jemma moved against him as much as she could, eyes tightly shut to heighten sensation. It wasn't enough, though, and she let out a muffled half-sob against his palm.

“What do you need, love?” he breathed in her ear.

She shook her head, there was no way to tell him that she just needed _more_. More stimulation, more sensation until there was enough that she could pull it around herself and lose herself in it.

He knew, though, somehow he knew. Maybe it was because he was in the same place, sought the same thing. He ducked his head and clamped his teeth down on the back of her neck, and suddenly it was enough. Endorphins flooded her body, chasing everything else away to the furthest reaches of her mind. Hunter's hand over her mouth muffled the noises she was making.

Then came the clear realization, he was seeking the same thing. She twisted her head back until she could sink her teeth deeply into the fleshy mound below his thumb. Not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to _feel_ , and almost immediately he was stiffening with his own orgasm.

Jemma was already coming down from her euphoric high when his hands fell away from her as he stepped away, and there was almost a sense of numbness as she bent over to pick up her clothes from where they'd pooled around her feet. She heard him adjusting his own clothing, and when she was mostly back in order, she turned around to reach for the door, unwilling to meet his eyes.

He stepped to the side, directly in her way. “You alright?” he asked, peering intently at her.

She forced a smile that she didn't feel and nodded, but he shook his head. “You're a terrible liar, love.” Hunter's arms came out and he pulled her against his body again, this time without the intensity of lust.

She let him, let her head fall against his shoulder. She felt the hot tears fill her eyes and spill over, wetting the front of his shirt. Her hands reached around his back, clutching his shirt as though he might vanish if she let go for even a second.

“Shh, love. I know.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> *chases plot-bunny down*  
> *puts it in computer to get it out of my damn head*  
> Set during S2 E12, right after Bobbi gives Hunter the brush-off. I had a lot of Simmons-shipping-feels during this episode, and this one was the most persistent.


End file.
